Heart Song
by Vanessa S. Quest
Summary: How Race came to be a part of the Quest Team, and how Rachel died in my story arc.


Heart-Song by Vanessa S. Quest

Rachel folded up the eighth set of children's jeans and t-shirts as she helped her 6 year old pack for their family trip.

Jonny rolled up the socks and handed them to his mom to put into the suitcase, then he grabbed his toothbrush and hairbrush, his favorite pajamas, and slippers while she packed a second pair of shoes, a raincoat, and his boxer-briefs.

"Sweetheart, what books do you want to bring for bedtime?"

"Dad said his conference is by the bazaar…"

"He _did_." Her voice lilted.

"…Can we read Aladdin?"

"Alright, let's bring 1001 Arabian Nights, you can learn about djinn!"

Jonny smiled toothily, though his front bottom tooth was getting very loose. "Dad already said djinn are genies that're trickier… and sometimes _evil_." He said as if in the know.

"Well, each culture has some kind of ghost story. I could also read to you about Sinbad—you remember how Jason and the Argonauts were sailors?"

His eyes shone, that'd been an epic adventure.

"They were also adventurers." She pulled the book over and set it on the side panel. "Let's also bring the book about the local wildlife, that way if we see any we'll know what it was."

"Cool!" Jonny smiled, already busy imagining the different big cats prowling the nearby deserts.

"We might even see a fennec fox! They have ears twice the size of their heads to keep cool."

"Neat!" He leaned in, "Can we keep one if I catch it?"

Rachel laughed, "Oh, sweetheart you know you shouldn't do that to a WILD animal." Silently, she decided she and Benton really needed to discuss getting the boy an appropriate pet.

Jonny frowned. "Dad wouldn't like that, huh? Does dad hate animals, mom?"

"I don't think so." She winked, "He just hates distractions—especially the kinds that leave chew marks on his books."

Giggling, Jonny added, "I don't think I'd like that either—so I'd have to train it very well… what about a falcon? Could I keep one of _those_ if I caught it?!"

"No, silly… what kind of animas do you like besides _wild_ ones?"

"Dogs are really fun! You can teach 'm all sorts of things!"

"That's true, cats are more independent and teach _you_ to do the tricks."

"Plus you can take dogs with you when you travel…" Jonny sold.

"On that note, have we completed the checklist?"

"Yes ma'am." Jonny smiled again, "Mom, what's your favorite animal?"

She patted her chin thoughtfully. "Hmm, I like small dogs so they can cuddle, big dogs love to cuddle too—but your dad probably wouldn't like cuddling a Saint Bernard once it's fully grown."

"Aw, that's not nice…" Jonny frowned. "…Would he cuddle a bulldog? Are they too big?"

"What kind of bulldog?"

Jonny shrugged, "There's kinds more than bulldog?"

"Of course, there's English, French, there's mixed breeds, there's all sorts."

"French bulldogs? Do you have to buy them in France? Do they know English?"

"Hmm, I wonder. Probably only if you're a really good trainer." Rachel smiled at the boy.

"If _I_ had a French Bulldog he'd know all _sorts_ of languages! And tricks!" Jonny beamed.

"I bet!" She kissed his forehead, "Now let's see how far your dad's gotten on packing. You now he loves to dawdle when he's thinking about work."

"Okay… Mom, what else are we gonna do on the trip?"

"Jonny, can you carry your suitcase?"

"Mhmm!" He nodded, picking up the small case.

"Well, there's a beach where we can see merchant ships on the one side of the city, and the bazaar, your dad's lecture, magic shows, and a nature preserve. We might want to tour the preserve with your dad so he won't feel left out."

"Okay! And he's going to talk for two days?"

She nodded, "His new project's really important for new energy sources. He's hoping they'll want to study the reaction further since it's so safe."

"So should we go to the beach on the first day, then go to the preserve when he's done for the night?"

"That sounds fun, doesn't it? And then we'll go to the bazaar on the second day while he's talking and have him meet us there, maybe catch a magic show earlier on?"

Jonny smiled, "And then what're we doing?" he prodded. His mom had been tight lipped, only saying it was a six day trip, then talking only about a two-day lecture.

"That's a surprise, and you'll just have to guess—if you can." She winked.

Benton had arranged a small cruise across the Mediterranean, it would be a perfect way to end the lecture – a nice, relaxing break. She was looking forward to it, the views were promised to be amazing, and much to her husband's form, educational. She'd already packed Jonny's swim trunks in her bag, along with sunscreen, hats, towels, and sunglasses.

Her son was pouncing her husband's leg as he was daydreaming about his speech instead of packing.

"Oh no! What's this strange creature!"

"I don't know, you _might_ have to study it—" Rachel provided.

Benton scooped up his son, rough-housing and tickling the bubbly six year old. "It _seems_ humanoid- definitely a primate… mammalian, bipedal, opposable thumbs…"

Jonny giggled as his dad tickled him mid-air, he felt like he might fall, but somehow his dad kept him balanced up there. Jonny's eyes locked on the luggage.

"Aw! Dad's only _half_ packed!"

Rachel walked over, "Really, Benton… do I need to help you, too—" Her eyes caught view of his holster, her face faltered. He caught her view then set Jonny down.

"No, I'm quite alright." He quickly put a shirt over the gun, then continued to pack.

Jonny looked between the adults sensing the shift in mood. "Hey- what's wrong?"

"Nothing, son. Everything's fine." Benton said pleasantly.

Rachel smiled back at Jonny. "Your dad's right, he's just _too slow_ at packing. Sweetheart, how about you take my bag to the foyer while I help, hm?"

"Okay!"

"Thanks, angel." She kissed his forehead.

Once he was out of earshot, Benton said quietly, "…It's an energy summit, but you know how they are at Intelligence Once, ' _better safe_ ' and all…"

"Is there an _active_ threat?" She crossed her arms.

"No! Of course _not_ , I'd _never_ bring you both if anyone had—"

"—But there's a perceived threat?"

He sighed, "There's _always_ a _perceived_ threat."

She smiled sadly, "I'm sorry, honey. I know you just want to take a vacation after being cooped up working so hard."

His arms curled around her waist. "How you put up with me, I hardly understand."

She kissed his lips, "Well, you're damn good in bed, that helps."

"Oh?" He said saucily. "We don't have _another_ errand we could busy _him_ with, do we?"

"Oh you…" She pinched his behind, "I have both of you pretty well conditioned—I'll ask him to help you find your blank index cards so you can work on your presentation."

He laughed, "Truly, the Mastermind of the family."

"And don't you forget it, handsome." The two shared a few hot kisses before Rachel called Jonny over. "Sweetheart! Your dad can't find his notecards so he can write his speech—can you go look for them?"

"Again? Dad did you check your lab?"

In the strictest of discipline, he kept the heat from his voice as he grinded toward Rachel, "I did—I didn't check my study—but make sure not to jostle up any papers if you check there."

"Yes sir."

"Thank you, sweetheart!" Rachel chimed.

Jonny clumsily rushed down the long hall, toward the steps to the study.

"Where'd you stash them?"

"Kitchen junk drawer, you have 20 minutes," her hand fished low, "use your time _wisely_."

-Heart Song JQ-

Benton hugged his wife, big spoon to her little spoon as they enjoyed the last few moments of quiet— down to a science, they'd climaxed twice each within 15 minutes, at 17 minutes they'd straightened back up, and by time Jonny 'found' the 'lost' index cards, they'd be perfectly inconspicuous.

"I was thinking Jonny really does need a companion…" Rachel mentioned.

Benton shot her a look, he hadn't pulled out by any means, but talks of another child had long been suspended with his mounting work-load, "We've discussed this, though, darling. With work ramping up, another baby—and after it'd been so hard to conceive the _first time_ —"

Rachel laughed, "Oh handsome, that is _not_ what I meant. My third dissertation was enough of a 'baby', but we've both been so busy with work, he wanted to adopt a baby fennec."

"In so many words?"

"Let's get him a dog. A cute little Frenchie, they travel well, it'll keep him busy, and he's old enough – and responsible enough – to take it for walks. Plus, you know how good he is _with_ animals, he _could_ adopt a fennec, but your lab wouldn't fare so well."

"Alright, alright – I'll consider it. _After_ these next few projects."

They laced a few more stolen kissed then straightened up. Benton went to the Master Bath to spritz some cologne, then remembered he'd need to pack _that_ too, returned with it, already back in the rhythm.

Rachel also freshened up, "A dog might also help him make some friends. He's not an introvert like me, but he has been being shy. A dog is a great icebreaker and they can read people's intentions."

"As much as I _am_ around your little finger, honestly, I need to think about it. It is a good idea, but he's _6_ , that's not quite old enough to remember to feed and water a non-verbal—"

"He feeds and waters _you_ daily, or have you forgotten all those cookie platters? He's even nice enough to leave you _half_ of them."

He smirked, "Don't be cruel. He's due back any moment now." He cupped her ass friskily.

"Down, boy." She winked.

He pointed at her, ready to retort when the door opened without warning—as six year olds often do. "I found them!"

"Really, where were they this time?" Benton asked, befuddled, or at least pretending to be.

"In the junk drawer! They were _all_ the way in the back."

"Why thank you, these will come in handy!" He said, packing up the same pack of index cards they'd had for the last three years.

The only doctor in the house who used them, for anything besides a means of buying some adult time, was Dr. Rachel Quest as she performed dissertations.

She _hated_ public speaking, and the only way she could muddle through were with cards with a topic to get her away from stage-fright.

She always choked on spontaneous, impromptu cues. Benton, on the other hand, had literally bullshit his way through no less than two separate speeches he'd been roped into last minute when friends had called out sick and desperately needed a reasonably knowledgeable substitute. His silver tongue, Rachel thought how true _that_ was in more ways than one, had only one use for _those_ cards.

-Heart Song JQ-

Jonny helped his dad carry the luggage to the car, Rachel did the final security check, locked the windows, doors, turned off the water _and_ the gas to the stove, then turned on the security system.

While she wasn't over-abundantly cautious, Benton was, and _his_ work, with their military applications entailed it.

That, and she did _not_ want her son fretting about risks but _did_ want to raise a gentleman with proper manners, she made certain the boys had time to do the civil, dashing things like load the car, hold the doors, and say yes sir, yes ma'am, thank you, _and_ please. She smiled, her son was indeed chivalrous, they really were raising him right.

As a mother, she wondered what her boy might do years from now. Well read, well-traveled, _kind_ , gentle, and certainly smart _and_ sociable if he'd be given half the chance… would he be like his father? World Renowned Scientist, an Engineering guru – or would he be more of a policy maker, or would he settle down, be more keen on rooting down and being a pillar to the community? For the longest time, she'd thought that would be _her_ own destiny, profess at a sizable university, maybe do some guest lectures, but mostly stay in a quiet suburb… but then she met Benton, and wild research dreams replaced quiet, predictable calm.

She wouldn't trade it. She also wouldn't go on a lecture circuit either, but really – for a person so loathed to public speaking, why she'd thought lecture halls would suit her was just naïve.

-Heart Song JQ-

At the airport, Rachel eyed her husband and son.

They'd chartered a flight, a hobby of her husband's to fly.

He'd bought a plane to travel for work, though Rachel hated the flaunt of wealth, it _was_ convenient. Rachel sat in the passenger compartment while Benton ran through the pre-takeoff checklist.

"Are we going to have a copilot?" She asked, disliking her husband staying up for such long hours to fly.

"Yes, Phil has a man who'll keep an eye on her while I'm on the circuit."

"Oh, _Phil_ will?" She asked evenly.

Benton smiled, knowing full well she was fuming. "Roger Bannon, it's just an extra precaution – just to have another set of eyes."

"On what, exactly?" She said in a low admonishment.

"Mom?" Jonny wasn't sure, but his parents were doing the hushed fighting they did sometimes.

"It's nothing, angel. Come on, let's take that melatonin now and nap so we'll be fresh when we land."

Jonny frowned. It didn't _seem_ like nothing. "Dad, did you make mom mad? That's not nice – you should say sorry—"

Benton ruffled his son's hair. "You're right. Rachel, darling, I'm sorry. I should've said so earlier." He pulled her into a close hug, "It's _really_ not a big deal, he's just going to stay with the plane and help me fly in. He's not even on assignment— _really_ , it's just—"

"Just what, dad?" Jonny asked, eavesdropping.

"Just a long flight, young man – no spying. It's impolite."

"Aw, you're no fun!"

Benton gave him a dirty look. "Buckle up and take the melatonin like your mother said, young man."

"Fine! I'm going…"

Once he was buckled up further back in the plane, he continued, "It's not a credible threat – someone wants to steal something, and I'm hardly the only lecturer. Phil wanted an agent nearby just in case they want to steal my prototype, but it's not even on the plane. I'm only discussing the theories of this new tech. I think he's blow it out of proportion, but both of you were coming so we went the more cautious route."

"…" She sighed, "Well, blue-eyes, that silver tongue saved you again. Do I need to worry about walking around?"

"No! No, of course not- how would a thief even know who my family is or _care_ for that matter even if they _were_ aiming for _my_ research— and we don't know that they _are_."

She shook her head. "Okay, let's just enjoy our vacation thenm when is your guy getting here?"

"He's already doing the external check."

"Is the flight path going to be rocky?"

"Unfortunately, it might face _some_ turbulence. Both of you should just try to sleep through it."

"Alright, well, good night then." She kissed him sweetly and headed to the seat next to Jonny's. She pulled up a quilt and two pillows tucking them both I as Jonny was rapidly losing against melatonin. His head conked into his mom's arm as he drowsed.

A white haired man closed up the entry stairs and carried his duffle to the cockpit. "Dr. Quest- er, Benton." Race extended his hand.

"Agent Bannon," he took it, shaking it firmly, "Phil said you know how to fly."

"I do, and please, call me Race."

"Well, it's a pleasure to meet you, you've met Rachel?"

"I said hi on the way up, your boy's asleep already."

Benton smirked, "Benefit of baking melatonin into a snack for on the car ride in. Jonny can be rambunctious, the threat level is still orange, right?"

"As we've heard, someone on the black market's been eager to get hands on some advanced tech, they're targeting the lecture series, most probably to try to steal or copy any gear they can. That's why I'll be sitting in. If you need me, I'll be right there."

"Alright, then let's cue the control tower."

-Heart Song JQ-

Jonny leaned into his mom, the plane rocked turbulently and made his sleep turn dark with nightmares.

In them, he was running, then falling, he woke up when he dreamtof hands grabbing him, pulling him further into a drop. He gasped awake, sweating.

"Sweetheart, what's wrong?"

"Nothing…" Jonny said, not wanting to bother his mom, she was also half asleep. "-Turbulence, just woke me up is all…"

He curled back into her, closing his eyes, but after the one bad dream came another and another.

Quicksand. Falling through an hour glass, being buried as it filled and then, more scary men. He remembered months ago, he'd been going to pick up the cereal he wanted for the week, his mom was talking at the end of the aisle about which milk was on special…

Two scary men had walked by him, one in between him and his mom, reaching for some gross cereal no one possibly _really_ ate. And then, the other man had grabbed his wrist and was pulling him from the aisle.

He'd done _exactly_ like his dad told him—he sat down and yelled, "WHO ARE YOU! LET ME GO!"

The one man had picked him up, and he'd kicked, scratched, and bit—he heard his mom scream, which had been scary—and then he grabbed the column.

He remembered a police man boxing the man's ear, he'd ran straight to his mom while two strangers shoved the scary men down to the ground.

Since then, though, they'd moved. And his parents had quiet fights. His dad bought a gun and made his mom and him practice. His dad practiced weekly. The new place had a security system, too.

And _he_ had nightmares about hands he didn't tell anyone about.

His dad had picked them up, even though they'd driven there. His mom just cried and cried and wouldn't let him go- not like he _wanted_ to be let go.

He didn't understand what happened, or why, but after that, they didn't go grocery shopping with him. He also didn't go outside alone much, not that he wasn't allowed to, he just didn't _want_ to.

They'd made him talk to some weird guy with fuzzy hair and huge glasses who asked about how he was feeling, all he did was play legos and try to ignore the stranger. After the fifth time, they stopped going.

Jonny tried to close his eyes again to sleep. He felt the pull of strange hands and finally let out a sigh of frustration. "Mommy?"

Rachel stirred, up near instantly, "Angel, what is it?"

"I can't sleep…" He sighed, "…I had a nightmare."

He felt her unbuckle his seatbelt and pull him to her lap. "What about?"

He straddled her legs while curling his arms behind her neck, "About the grocery store…"

She tightened her grip, "Sweetheart—"

"It's no big deal, I just can't fall back to sleep is all… can we read a story?"

"Sure, angel, sure." She traced circles on his back, her face darkened. The attempted abduction had shaken her to the core, those _goon_ were hired to make Benton hand over a military project. _That_ had been when SSA Phil Korvin had been introduced into her life. Benton had always worked on _important_ things before, but never once had there been a threat, never once had there been a break-in or _perceived_ risk. And then, he'd gotten a call while they'd been out on errands.

She remembered how her bright, gabby boy over-night became shy of strangers.

Night-terrors, nightmares, in fact- it was so bad for that first two weeks, they'd taken to giving him melatonin just so he could rest.

They'd moved, too.

It wasn't her husband's fault, but the stress of a cranky, tired, _scared_ little boy had made them argue.

He wouldn't talk about the nightmares, even with the child psychologist, the most he eeked out were 'memories distorted by perception,' and just like that – they stopped going. No shit it was about what _happened._ They just wanted to know how to get them to _stop_. She'd found that cure, herself.

She started reading him adventure tales. Not Good Night Moon or Fairy Stories like when he was three, or books about weather or animals or important historical figures like she'd done even months ago- days- before it happened- no, she read him Jason and the Argonauts.

Then she'd read him excerpts from the Odyssey, Beowulf—epics, where heroes did brave things and persevered over uncanny monsters.

Then and only then did he sleep through the night.

"How about we read about Jules Verne? 10,000 Leagues Below the Sea?"

He nodded, she began to recite the story, one audience she _never_ had stage-fright with.

-Heart Song JQ-

They landed at 10 AM local time. Benton had snuck into the cabin sometime around 5 AM to get a solid block of sleep, he'd held his son so Rachel could use the bathroom.

She told him he'd had _the_ nightmare, adding what they'd always expected but he'd never confirmed until now.

"Hands grabbing him, such an awful thing for a little boy—he said he kept falling in the turbulence, then he was getting _pulled_ down, by hands, just like at the grocery store."

His wife had cried, which was gutting, but then she'd gone to freshen up, not wanting Jonny to see her upset.

This was _exactly_ why he needed a damned vacation. His son needed time away, somewhere safe, and without emotional baggage. The boy had been so excited when he heard there was a bazaar- shopping- exploring, it was fun to a child and for months they'd been too worried it would trigger him- or _worse_ someone else would _attempt_ it again, so they'd decided as amicable as they could to _not_ put him in that risk, at least until he could even talk about his fears.

Benton pulled Jonny into his side, reclined the chair all the way back.

Sleep felt damn good.

-Heart Song JQ-

Awake now, and unloaded from the plane, the Quests decided to take a casual walk through the bazaar and grab a light breakfast. Jonny reveled in medjool dates, the sweet fruit practically _candy_.

The adults, on the other hand, found the coffee to be _their_ nectar, and after a modicum of exploring, they headed to their hotel to unpack.

The patterned blue tiles and sandstones cast into wide, magnificent city centers where a sight to behold.

Rachel had tied a thin scarf over her hair in a show of respect to their culture as she and her boys walked the leisurely stroll to their accommodations.

The expansive suite was quite luxurious, even to her husband's standards.

It had been the 'recommended venue' by the lecture hall, which meant the restaurant downstairs would be full of lively conversations and advanced theoretical physics.

Meanwhile, the goose-feather pillows and mattress she was swallowed into was amazing even after the leather seats on their charter jet.

Jonny was already exploring the four-room suite—the balcony views, the intricate wicker woven patterns on the walls, the overt jewel-tones and tinted, uneven glass.

"Hey dad! Check out the small pool!" He said while looking at the large tub.

To a six year old it _might_ be a pool, Benton could easily see it filling to three feet in depth.

Rachel gave him a non-verbal invitation about _that_. He gave her a falsely stern look in 'rebuke' that was a solid, 'after he's _out_ for the night.'

"What ELSE are they hiding in here? Ali Baba's caverns?"

"Hm, I wonder. You better check the lamps _very_ carefully."

Eyes shining, he went through the space doing just that.

Benton laughed, pulled his wife into an intimate embrace, "You _are_ good—"

She swatted his thigh. "I like to live dangerously, but we're not going to have enough time for that." She kissed him passionately, instead. She sucked the breath out of him, and he in turn did the same, tasting her, smelling the fragrance of irises, her favorite flower, and of Arabica bean coffee.

She in turn tasted the sweet musk of his lips, faint scent of jet fuel and mechanical grease, and the salty, heady smell of his own anticipation and excitement.

"I _mean_ it, blue eyes, not enough _lamps_ for that…"

"I know, I know… he's already made it through half of them," he whispered erotically.

The boy rushed into the room then faltered as his parents were still kissing.

"Ew! Gross! Mooshy stuff…" Jonny exclaimed, literally gagging at his parents make-out session.

The adults turned apart, laughing, Rachel shot a whisper, " _Half,_ huh?"

"Any luck finding a djinn?"

Jonny rolled his eyes at his dad's teasing. "Those aren't real. You said so yourself." He held up a letter, "Someone put this under the door."

Benton gave him a puzzled look. "Let me see that, son." To his wife, "It's probably our itinerary— who speaks when."

She smiled, clearly not buying it.

There went _that_ pool party. He took the letter and opened the envelope. "It's from Korvin's man. He's just checking on the lecture hall. So far, it looks _fine_."

"Dad, is something _wrong_ with the lecture hall?" Jonny asked, picking up between-the-lines talking points.

Rachel scooped him up.

"Of course there isn't, sweetheart- didn't you hear? Your daddy said it was _fine_."

His tongue darted over his teeth. He _should_ get the boy a dog, he'd at least have a dog- _house_ to share then. He smiled charismatically, convincingly, "We've never been here before, I was asked to have someone around who could keep an eye on me. Make sure I don't say or do anything impolite in their culture…"

Jonny frowned, brows furrowed. "What's that have to do with the lecture hall, though?"

"Just getting the lay of the land. Have you both looked at the local maps? Getting lost is dangerous."

"Benton." Rachel warned.

"—I'm sure many people would help, if they could understand, but we speak a foreign language that most of them don't know." He pressed on, anyway.

"There aren't… scary men… are there?"

The vacuum that created had been deafening.

Rachel picked Jonny up, tossed him in the air twice, "Even if there are, I'd _never_ let anything happen to you. Now, let's study those maps like daddy asked. He _probably_ just wants to work on writing his eulogy."

Benton swallowed at the warning, bow was he _in it_ now.

"Mom, what's a eulogy?"

"A speech." They said simultaneously, Benton's eyes apologetic, Rachel's murderous. She laughed at Jonny's shocked face, spinning him.

"Come on, maybe we'll even find clues to where the best shops will be."

"Okay, mom…" Jonny said, still not convinced.

-Heart Song JQ-

The doghouse was indeed a chilly one, in none-too-friendly terms, he'd been politely told exactly when and where to meet them for dinner, no longer on the invitation list for the preserve. He wondered what he could find to make it up to them both, a nice charm for Rachel, and a new book or toy for Jonny- really, he had to think of what he could cheer up Jonny with.

 _That_ was the wrench.

This was a family trip, just as much to distract their young son from the horrors and he went and put his damned foot in it.

He caught sight of Agent Bannon in the hotel lobby. "Is security in order?"

Race nodded, "You have a fight with the missus?"

"Oh, it's not a fight. It's a fully unilateral, crushing defeat, I've found." He let out a sigh, "I assume Phil told you about the attempted abduction."

Race nodded, "Yes. He did."

"Well, this trip is as much about _that_ as it is about a lecture."

The white-haired man waited for him to elaborate.

"He's scared and withdrawn. He doesn't look like it though, does he?" He laughed glibly, "But as bubbly as he _really_ is- even 50% just looks _normal_."

Race nodded, "No, he looked scared on the plane. His posture, he's trying at least. That's a really good sign."

Benton blinked, taken aback by the man's insight.

"I have a degree in child psychology, I'm no PhD, or even a Masters, but I _am_ certified. I focused on childhood trauma, after I got out of the SEALS."

Benton nodded, "That's impressive… I just thought agents were all poli-sci and foreign languages."

"Oh, and _extensive_ martial arts, but yeah, we're all different like any other company."

"Well, Agent Bannon—"

"Please, call me Race."

"—Right, Race… it's a family vacation so my son can try to feel himself again. The threats to the hall, though… now _he's_ feeling scared, not relaxed at all. And my wife is of the opinion that I should've told her sooner about it." He watched the scientist.

"Why didn't you?"

"So _she_ could relax too, you said so yourself, it's not a credible threat for the lecture hall."

"Dr. Quest…"

"Please, call me Benton."

"—Dr. Quest, when and how did I say it was _not_ a credible threat?"

"In your note—the one you slipped under the door…?"

"Where are your wife and son, are they still here?" He said while unclipping his service piece.

"No—they left half an hour ago."

"Where did they go, Dr. Quest?"

"The bazaar, they're headed to the bazaar _then_ the preserve—"

"Listen carefully to me, go up to your room as if nothing's wrong. Once you're in, pack. Grab your pistol, and come back into the lobby. We leave it two minutes."

"Pack? We just—"

"—I didn't write you a _note_ , Dr. Quest." Their eyes connected. "Be calm. Nothing out of the ordinary— you _forgot_ something is all."

He nodded, looked around the mostly empty lobby before patting his pockets. "Damn… my index cards." He said at a comfortable speaking tone.

-Heart Song JQ-

"Mom! Did you see _that_! It's a scimitar!" Jonny's eyes shone bright.

Rachel smiled, squeezed his hand gently. "Just like Sinbad!" She brushed her fingers through his bangs, "Let's look at the ship glass, if we're careful, it would be a very pretty decoration for the sun room."

Jonny nodded, "I like the new house, mommy… it has all sorts of cool rooms and nooks and crannies."

"You do? That makes me happy. It doesn't bother you that we moved to somewhere so remote?"

"…Dad's work is dangerous, isn't it?"

She sighed, "No, your daddy has important work, and what he does _advances_ the whole world, but he _doesn't_ work on dangerous things. He works on things that could be _applied_ dangerously. But _he'd_ never."

Jonny lowered his head.

"Then who were those scary men? Why did they try to take me?"

She frowned, "Because they don't _know_ your father, and thought they could control him. Let me tell you, only _one_ person has your daddy wrapped around their finger—and that's _me_."

"Mommy, are you two fighting?"

She laughed, "We don't fight, sweetheart. Mommy _wins_."

"…" Jonny smiled, giggled, "Cam we see if they have a telescope? The kind Sinbad used…"

"Sure, sweetheart!"

Rachel scanned the bazaar, that stall was around here _somewhere_ …

After a few wrong turns, and cursing the inaccurate map silently, they found a storefront.

"Hands in your pockets, we don't want to break anything." She coached.

"Aww, _mom_ … I won't! I'll be careful…"

A little known fact even in the Quest household was that while Rachel had _both_ her boys around her little finger, Jonny had _her_ around _his._

"Well, if you promise to be careful, angel."

They looked at several pieces, a purple, blue, and golden yellow set of lenses caught her eye. They'd make a beautiful wind mobile, or to just hang up, alone… Jonny found a looking glass, the two inch convex glass was polished to a high shine and surrounded by a collapsible frame.

Rachel bartered, gesturing for the objects before the deal was struck. For less than twenty US dollars they'd gotten excellent souvenirs, paid in local currency of course.

The merchant wrapped them in fine papers, and Rachel put the 3 large panes into her bag and Jonny's treasure in his little pocket. "Are you hungry?"

"A little…"

She ruffled his hair, "Let's find a falafel."

He nodded, squeezed her hand.

"After lunch, we'll head to—" She smiled, picked up her son, "Sweetheart, you remember how we studied the map like daddy asked?" He locked eyes with her, "Let's see if we can find that one spot I showed you."

"The Embassy?"

"Yes" She said in a serious, frightening voice. "If I say Sinbad, you run like there's no tomorrow straight to it—understood?"

He was trembling, "Mommy…?"

"Jonny, you can do this."

He nodded, tears prickling the corners of his eyes, she set him down, "Then we'll go to the preserve after lunch." She said in a louder voice.

Jonny was looking around in an awed panic. He saw three people who kept following them, showing up when they'd thought they were gone… He saw a street sign, "Mommy! I think lunch is _that_ way—"

"Okay! Let's check." She smiled bravely.

They'd been circling for forty minutes, and as it was, the pair had been walking for several hours to just explore the market.

Jonny saw one of the three step closer.

"Jonny, you're going to be alright. Listen to mommy _very_ closely…" She whispered, he nodded barely noticeably, though Rachel wasn't looking at him. "Up ahead, you see those flags?"

"With the American flag?"

"Yes. If I give word—run for them. Don't stop until you're _inside_."

"You'll be right with me—"

"—Of course, but _promise_ you won't stop running until you're inside the building with the _flags_."

"I- I promise mommy…"

"You're a very, very brave little boy, angel. And so sweet, kind, and gentle. You'll be a wonderful man, just like your daddy when you grow up."

His lips trembled, "Mommy…" his voice cracked.

"A _proper_ gentleman, and smart- but smarts aren't the only things that matter… your adventurous spirit, your warm heart—those are _treasures_ , don't ever let anyone steal those away."

She suddenly turned to look at him, hugged him tightly, and planted a kiss. "Sinbad." Pushing him back to give him a head start, the pair ran toward the flagpole two hundred feet away.

They were being followed- he heard the clattering feet, the shouts in an angry language he didn't ever want to know, there was the sound of gunshots.

He turned.

" _Keep GOING_!" She screamed, pushing him, not letting her son turn to see how her stomach bloomed red where her whites and khakis had previously been unmarred.

They turned a corner—it was a dead end.

At some point, his shoe had fallen off of his left foot, he stared at the wall in terror.

Rachel grabbed him, pulled him tightly to her chest, his face pressed so tight to her breasts he couldn't see they were surrounded – or that she was dying.

"Mommy…" He was sobbing, shaking.

"You're such a brave, smart, _funny_ , and _kind_ man—you'll be such a great person and do so many important things… and I love you so, _so_ much. So does your daddy. You boys _have_ to stick together—your daddy'll _need_ you so much—" She whispered, kissing him, "Promise me you'll be alright."

" _We'll_ be—" he hiccupped.

" _Promise_ me, Jonny." She pleaded.

He nodded, "I love you mommy, I promise! I'll be good. I'll be alright. I'll listen to dad… but _you_ have to—you have—have to…"

The second gun crack made his voice die off.

He felt heat in his hair, over his face, he looked up at his mom's paling face, she was still smiling as she looked at him, her eyes were so deep- but so, _so_ far away.

Jonny's mouth gaped. "…my… Mommy…! Mommy, I'll be good! I'll be a proper gentleman, I'll be kind, I'll look after daddy, anything you say mommy, I love you—I love you mommy! Even if you an; daddy are mooshy, I _love_ …"

His voice cut in his throat, tears streamed down his dace, they made white rivers over caking reds.

He looked up at a woman holding a pistol aimed at them both.

He flinched at the sound of gunfire, the woman's body crumpled as half her face disappeared into a spray of bone and red mist. There were two more gunshots, though they were quieter- puck sounds versus bam sounds.

His eyes locked back onto his mom's. He hugged her tightly, but then there were hands. He was being ripped away from her, he tried to scream again, like his dad had told him to—to sit down and yell, but his voice _wouldn't_ work.

He was being cuddled, his face buried into an unfamiliar chest. It smelled like sweat, gunpowder, and detergent.

His head was spinning, he couldn't make air come in.

Benton was cradling Rachel, holding her, begging her to hold on. The man kissed his wife. "Rachel—you're going to be—"

"Don't lie to me, handsome… is our boy?"

"He is. He's okay—he'll _be_ okay—I love you. I love you so much, don't make me do this _alone_ —"

"Kiss me like you miss me…" She smiled, "…I love you boys, Benton, take care of my baby—he _needs_ you…"

"You're the love of my life—" he kissed her, quietly crying as her kiss went from returned to unresponsive and without breath. He rocked her body in his arms. "Rachel!"

Race closed his eyes, trying to preserve the man's privacy in such a dark, awful moment.

He kept cradling the boy, a probing hand searched, he didn't feel anything that looked like a wound. With a mother's love and sacrifice, he _doubted_ he would.

Benton slowly sat up, peeled back from his wife's lifeless body, he could hear his son sobbing, his hair red and matted in his mother's blood.

"He isn't hurt, is he?!" He was moving Jonny's small body left and right, tilting his head up and down.

The haunted, hollow look in his eyes looked as dead as Rachel's lips had grown to feel, except _he_ _was_ breathing.

A smell of urine hit his nostrils, his son's focusless eyes locked on his mother's limp body and had wet himself.

He dropped onto his knees then hands, Benton knelt in front of him to block his view, too late. He pulled off his linen sports-coat and wrapped Jonny in it. "Son…"

"Dr. Quest, take him to the embassy. I'll carry her…"

Benton's chest constricted. "No, you most certainly will _not_ — that's _my wife_ —"

"And _he's_ your son." He reminded sharply. "And has just _seen_ something he never should have had to."

"YOU THINK I DON'T KNOW THAT?!" He seethed, shouted, he was conflicted. The boy's wince made him lose his strength. "Jonny! I- I didn't mean to yell… of… of course I'll carry you." He said as if finally realizing all the implications.

Jonny pushed at him, away, he shook his head. Weakly, he went to his mom's body, picked up her bag. With a limp, he started to walk himself toward the embassy until Race caught his arm.

"Let me/" He said gently, Jonny wouldn't look him in the face, he nodded his chin toward his chest.

Race scooped up the light body, still cradling him as Benton picked up his wife's corpse, carrying her as he had after their wedding across the threshold of their marital house and bed.

Silently, the two men walked the half block to the entrance of the American Embassy.

-Heart Song JQ-

Tears, Benton's face was soaked in tears as he washed his wife's blood from their son's body, face, neck, _hair_ …

He was gaunt, silent. The haunted look in his eyes was painful. He blamed himself for all of this. His damned _hubris_ had brought this upon their house.

As the tears fell, he scrubbed Jonny with sudded washcloths, as they turned pink, rinsing and repeating.

"Jonny, I'm sorry— you should never've had to endure such an awful thing— I'm so, so sorry…"

The boy looked down mutely.

"Are you hurt? You were limping…" Of course he was _hurt_ , Benton kicked himself. He'd just witnessed his mother's _murder_. He made no response.

"Where are you hurt, Jonny?" He tried again. He felt so much anger, he didn't know what to do with his own inadequacies.

Jonny's hand went to his chest and held his heart silently.

"Mine too, mine too." He said thickly, "It's broken into thousands of little pieces."

Jonny frowned, his own tears restarting, he slumped forward.

"Anywhere else?"

He shook his head, Benton assumed _that_ was from the numbness of shock, Race was right. He _had_ been limping.

"Let me look at your leg." He commanded distantly.

Jonny pushed up from the tub to stand, he swayed as his dad wrapped him in a towel then bundled him onto his lap. He touched it gently.

He had a cut and a bruise along his ankle bone on the outside, the gash was shallow. He'd probably rolled it running for his life.

It wasn't horribly swollen. He maneuvered it, the blond didn't utter a sound, he didn't wince, after he had had enough, though, he stood and limped from the room.

He locked eyes with his mother's luggage.

In a clatter, he was on his knees, choking on silent sobs.

Race plucked him off the floor and carried him to a second room, wrapped the naked kid in a thick blanket, he was shivering uncontrollably. "It's too hard to use words, isn't it Jonny?"

Jonny nodded.

"But you can hear me, and understand?"

Another nod signaled.

"My name is Race, full name is Agent Roger "Race" Bannon. We met earlier. Do you remember that?"

Jonny blinked, slowly he nodded.

Race put a pen and paper into Jonny's hands. "Can you tell me if that ankle is causing any pain? Even if other things are hurting more."

He nodded, wrote, "Yes."

"Okay, that's no good, can I wrap it?" He nodded, "Does anything else feel bad?"

He scribed, "Heart."

"I know it does, but _that_ I can't fix…" He said in a soothing voice.

"Numb." Jonny wrote.

"What's numb, Jonny?"

"Everything. Can't speak."

"Does your throat _hurt_?" He nodded in misery. "Would you drink something if I made it?"

Jonny stared at him, perplexed, a long moment later he seemed to decide, "Ok."

"Do you want to wait here, or get dressed and come with me?"

Jonny blinked, wrote out, "Don't want to be alone."

"Okay, get dressed? Can you?"

Jonny nodded, he pulled at his luggage, his spy glass was in it somehow. He frowned, grabbed his jeans, underwear, shows, socks, and shirt. His process to gown was dampened by his emotional fatigue, but he managed by time Race poked his head back in.

"I told your dad I was taking you to the kitchen, he said it's okay."

Jonny nodded. He didn't understand what kind of place this was.

"We're going to fly back soon. When we finish up in the kitchen, do you want to help me load up?"

Jonny froze, body trembling.

"You don't have to, I can manage, but I thought you'd like something to do."

He grabbed the paper, conviction set. "Mommy says I should be a gentleman and always help when I can. I want to help."

"Well _thank you_." He put a gentle hand on Jonny's shoulder. What Race _didn't_ say was that he was glad the boy'd be occupied while his mother's body was loaded onto the jet in the cargo hold.

Race made a cup of warm honey-water.

Benton mightn't've taken issue with doping a kid with melatonin, especially for ease of flying, but that wasn't in _his_ rule book.

It was 9 PM, he doubted the boy'd eaten anything, save the honey-water he'd charmed him into.

That didn't make him happy. He had two shell-shocked clients, Korvin had literally thrown a kanipshin when he'd given the report.

Anything Race needed to get Benton back stateside was his, but first things were first.

That boy _needed_ seeing to, the late Dr. Rachel Quest needed a _proper_ transportation, their luggage, personal effects, all had to get moved over, and they needed to be _secured_.

This wasn't some mugging gone wrong, or a kidnap attempt. It had been an assassination – though, by the looks of it, it may well have been intended to be _both_.

Neither Quest was to be let off this base alone.

Lastly, he needed some answers. Whoever had given the boy the note under the door was dangerous, and he needed to close that threat down urgently.

-Heart Song JQ-

Back in Florida, Dr. Quest had realized the earth was off kilter.

Between funeral arrangements, and her fragrant scent in each room of the house- he _needed_ a distraction.

It happily came in the form of work.

Holed off in the lab, there was no guilt about a non-verbal six year old, and that Bannon fellow had stayed behind to avail himself.

In a 70 hour period fitted with 2 cat naps of 2 hours, he'd managed to make a draft for an AI program. He'd call it IRIS, his wife's favorite flower.

He ignored the knock at the door, if that even _was_ a knock. A ration of crackers with peanut butter was staring at him from the door. He grabbed it and the accompanying bottle of water left by the mouse of a knocker and ate it begrudgingly.

He had to write her eulogy, worse—he had to call her _father_ … At 80 the 80 hour mark, the mousy knock was replaced with a booming one.

"Not now!" Benton bellowed, his speech—he'd finally used those damned index cards. The _fright_ of having to deliver _this_ speech and he'd known he needed them.

"Damn it, yes _now_." Race shot back.

He rubbed his tired eyes and walked to the door. "What?" It was hostile, which the man didn't deserve—he might _actually_ be a saint.

"You've been in here for _four_ days. Your son needs to see you."

"He's used to—"

"No, he is not. His mother's died, Dr. Quest. He won't eat dinner since that's for _family time_ , I've only gotten him to eat lunch because he's been bringing some to _you_ too, and Christ—you smell to high heaven… you need a shower _then_ check on your son."

He was frustrated, but Race was right at least about the shower. Jonny's gone _weeks_ with him holed up in the lab ignoring the world. That _was_ their normal. Besides, if he really needed him, he'd just ask his mom and sneak in—

He froze. No. No, he wouldn't be doing _that_ , now would he?

He knocked on his son's door. Shuffling feet were the only response before the door opened.

"I hear you missed dinner, young man." God, the boy looked as haggard as Benton _felt_.

Jonny shrugged mutely.

"Why didn't you just eat with Race?"

Jonny gave him a bemused look, he shuffled back toward his pad of paper and pen.

"You don't need that with me. Just _answer_ me."

His shoulders dipped as he looked away from his dad. His dad was mad. He knew this'd been all his fault… his eyes landed on the spy glass.

Dr. Quest watched his son, watched his head turn toward the looking glass. Really, as precious the object was—why the hell he'd let him hold onto it and run the risk of breaking it—it was beyond him. He stepped over to the desk and picked up what his son was looking at.

"I'm going to put this away. You can eat dinner with Race, you can come _talk_ to me in the lab when you're—"

Jonny grabbed at his own throat then ran at his dad trying to take back the looking glass.

"—Stop it! Do you want to _break_ it?!"

Jonny froze, he shook his head, stepped backward until he was at his bed.

"Whenever you finish this silent treatment non-sense, I'll be in the lab. Just _behave_." He paused, "…And dig out your suit, I'll ask Race to get it dry-cleaned before Friday."

Jonny nodded, not making eye contact.

As Dr. Quest closed the door and made his way to the study, he caught Race's eye.

"Well _that_ went well."

"He'll take dinner with you." Dr. Quest said flatly, he place the spyglass in a cigar box on the top shelf of his bookcase.

"Dr. Quest, with all _due_ respect—he _can't_ talk yet."

"Is that your professional opinion on childhood trauma or on how _stubborn_ my boy is?"

"Neither, don't be a jack ass! He screamed out his vocal cords. He _can't_ physically speak."

Benton blinked. _That_ was hardly an expected outcome.

"Didn't you even wonder why you haven't heard him— even in the dead of night? It's not psychological— it's physiological."

"I'd just thought that…"

"Don't lie, you haven't _thought_ about _him_ since we've landed. And I get that— you're traumatized too, but you need to man up."

Benton blinked back angry tears.

" _Haven't_ thought about him?! Are you daft?! _All_ I've been thinking about is how he must hate me, how am I supposed to _provide_ for him—how am I supposed to keep going with my wife— the mother of my _child_ dead—"

"He doesn't live off abstract concerns. Dinner's in two hours. Be there." Race said in a warning tone. "Because you _don't_ want to lose him, too; I'll help you, but the kid needs _you_."

Dr. Quest swiped at his tired eyes. "…You're right. I apologize for my emotional—"

"Stow it."

Dr. Quest blinked at the unfamiliar phrase.

-Heart Song JQ-

Race had made pizza, or flew it in—Benton really wasn't sure, but the greasy, unhealthy comfort food had fed his soul.

Jonny, though, wasn't eating and he _loved_ pizza. It was a forbidden fruit, the epitome of junk-food they'd so often denied him.

"Jonny, is it no good? Don't you like cheese pizza?" Race asked, eyes reading every word the boy's body was 'saying'.

Jonny shook his head.

"You haven't even tried it, how do you know it doesn't taste good?" Benton countered.

Attention divided, Jonny's eyes went straight to his father's then to Race's, they were wet with unshed tears, but that too had been a constant companion to the silence.

"I'm not hungry." He wrote.

"You agreed to eat dinner as a family, you gave your word." Race said in gentle rebuke.

"But mom's not here."

The boy's eyes locked on what he'd just written, stood and ran from the room sobbing.

Benton read the note, it was like being punched. He walked to the boy's room where slammed doors and chairs and springy bed sounds were the only indicator of noise of a 6 year old.

He picked up the boy and silently cradled him. At first he'd tried to pull back, but then, simply too tired to struggle, he caved.

"You've lost weight." Benton said, surprised at himself. "I can feel your ribs…"

Jonny shrugged indifferently.

"Come back to dinner. Race worked very hard to get something he'd thought you'd like."

He shook his head abstinently.

"Your mother would be disappointed in that attitude, young man." He admonished sternly, and even to his addled, tired mind he thought it was a cruel thing to say.

The boy's shoulders dropped, he cried harder.

"At least have _some_ bites. Make Rachel proud, we have a very nice guest over, be in good manner…" He tried again.

The boy was stiff under him but gave a meek nod.

"Let's clean your face and go back to the dinner table."

Race knew the boy had _needed_ his father, the talk had worked, as did the guilt of _not_ living up to his dad's expectations because he'd managed two slices, a cup of milk, _and_ bites of salad. He hadn't seen the boy pack in that much food in the short time since he'd met him, but he'd ask Benton later if he had an approximation of the caloric intake that was the kid's 'normal' he should factor in.

His plan was thwarted by a telephone call.

"Quest Residence, Agent Bannon speaking."

"Doug Wildey, put that no-good son of a bitch on the phone."

"I'm sorry?" Race blinked.

Benton extended his hand, "That'd be me. Doug, you got my voice mail?"

"You thick-headed _ass_ —how's my grandbaby?!"

"How do you _think_ we are, Doug?" He retorted, ever one to build bridges to peace.

Jonny covered his ears, seeing this Race picked him up. "Dr. Quest, we'll be in the sun room."

He mouthed, "Thank you."

-Heart Song JQ-

In the sun room, Race set Jonny down. "Let's get some exercise, keep you from getting too tired too early, okay?"

Jonny shrugged indifferently.

"Was that your grandpa?" He asked.

Jonny nodded.

He realized they'd left his pad and pen in the other room. Oh well, no getting it _now_ … "Jonny, can you spell? I mean, I know you're writing well but…" He kicked himself, of course he could. "But if I showed you how to use Morse Code… do you think you could use it?"

Jonny shrugged.

"Okay, let's try! This is A." He knocked short-long. He waited a long moment. "B." by time he got to "G." he had Jonny repeat.

The kid was amazing, he didn't miss a beat! He kept going, paused at "Q." Again, Jonny replicated. By time he got to "Z." he was wondering if the boy had it or not.

Jonny recited A through Z flawlessly.

"That's amazing." He said, then coded _"AMAZING_."

" _GRANDPA – AND – DAD – HATE – EACH – OTHER."_ He tapped.

"Kiddo, do you know how long it took _me_ to learn Morse Code? And you're a bona fide _natural_!"

Jonny lowered his head, he felt proud, but he didn't _want_ to feel happy- about _anything_.

" _IS – HE – GOING – TO – COME?"_

"Of course he will. You want to see him, don't you?"

" _YES"_ Jonny tapped. He laid onto his back to watch the sea glass his mom had bought, the colors danced on the ceiling. " _WHEN – DID – YOU – HANG – THIS – UP?_ "

"Yesterday. I thought you'd like it. Was I right?"

" _YES_ " He was falling asleep anyway. Race chided, he couldn't begrudge the boy a nap, he simply wasn't that hard.

" _GRANDPA – AND – DAD – DONT – BLAME – ME – DO – THEY?_ "

Race shot the boy a look. "No! Absolutely not, Jonny."

" _DAD – DOES – OR – WHY – ELSE – WOULD – HE – AVOID – ME?_ "

"You're wrong. People cope in lots of ways, and, well… your dad shuts himself into work."

" _HOW – DO – I – COPE?_ "

Race wouldn't say by shutting down, or _not_ , but he couldn't leave the boy unanswered, his dad did too much of that himself. "I dunno yet, kiddo. But I know you're very brave."

-Heart Song JQ-

Race was in his own heated call as Jonny slept on.

"Phil, there ain't no way you can pull me to the office right now—that little boy needs me here."

"I realize that, but the investigation _also_ needs you…"

"And I've sent ya the reports. What is this _really_ about?"

The long, uncomfortable silence was nothing new to Race, he just wondered how thoroughly his ass was about to get chewed.

"We know _what_ happened versus what was _supposed_ to happen."

"What in the where and why now?" Race blinked, that had _not_ been the expected result.

"There are certain… markets that cater to the elements."

"I know _that_ , which _market_ —?"

"They were supposed to abduct _both_ of the doctor's family. But Rachel was almost to the Embassy, they spooked, shot her – and _their_ plan changed. Kill her, kidnap him, make Benton their puppet—a slave to their whims."

"And who's whims are they, Phil?"

"Probably Zin. And you and I _both_ know how well he tolerates failure. The first plan failed when Jonny made a scene – he was expecting them to grab the boy first and make the mom follow, but then it didn't go to his plan. He burned off the getaway driver's face – while he was _alive_."

"…And is he still?"

"Yes. And singing like a proverbial canary because he likes _our_ cage."

"So why do you need me _there_?"

"We need to know WHAT tech he's targeting, or is he just after Benton for _all_ of it?"

"Zin isn't the type to set a limit."

"True, but he _can_ focus. We need you to get Jade on board, broker a truce or at least _derail_ his scheme…"

"I _can't_ leave them." He said again flatly. "His dad's falling apart, and he's six- _alone_ \- scared, and blaming himself…"

"Then I might need to make you the _boy's_ bodyguard. The threat is still _very_ active."

"I've gathered."

Phil sighed. "You understand _what_ this mean, don't you? Race, we're shifting from stemming the leak to plugging them as they sprout up. If we're not investigating to _prevent_ this, well now it'll be to _rescue_ when it _does_ happen."

"…I like to think the best strategies have offense and defense, Phil. We'll prevent and protect."

"Damn it, Race…" Phil blew out a sigh, "Good luck. You'll need it."

Race let out a shaken breath. Of course Phil was right- catching Zin outright would end this threat, but it wouldn't be _enough_ , not anymore. The boy needed his dad AND he needed Race.

He pinched away the headache growing below the bridge of his nose.

-Heart Song JQ-

Benton fumed in the lab.

How _dare_ Doug? How god-damned dare he?!

Race knocked on the door forcefully.

"Come in."

"Hey."

"Hey." Dr. Quest said back, "You checking in on me again?"

"With a status update, yes."

He nodded, his red hair shifted slightly. He'd need to trim it down before the funeral.

"Jonny's lying down in his room, he's _incredibly_ bright. He learned the Morse Code alphabet in one shot."

Benton shirked, "I'd believe it, was that it?"

"No." He locked eyes with the other man.

"Go on, then?"

"I think you should go first… what was Doug calling about?"

"Oh his usual theatrics—he's going to come _here_ after the funeral. For a week. Or longer. Oh, and his lawyers are drafting paperwork to try to get _custody_ of _my_ son."

"Jesus… he wasn't kidding when he said Doug hates you…"

"Jonny said that?" A red eyebrow arched up.

"Well, that you both hate each other." Benton laughed at Race's statement.

"No, I don't _hate_ Doug. He's just insufferable. Stick around, you'll see what I mean."

"…And that brings us to _my_ news. Dr. Quest, I-1 knows who killed your wife. And why—or at least what the _plan_ was."

His eyes were on Race with a cold fire.

"You ever heard of a man named Zin?"

His eyes narrowed, "Once. He tried to recruit me _once_."

"And how'd _that_ go?"

"I, in no uncertain terms, said no and suggested where he should _file_ his job application."

"Yeah… Well, Zin doesn't take failures or nos well. He had his thugs try to abduct them, probably to make you reconsider… the grocery store was his men."

Benton sat down hard. "It wasn't local? We'd thought it was a ransom – or some – well, there's _sick_ people in the world…"

"There are, but that was more than a get rich quick scheme."

Mouth open-shut like a goldfish, he heard Race's abbreviated report.

"Long story short, the second kidnapping attempt went off bad. They opted to kill Rachel, then would've kidnapped the boy. Phil has asked I stay on as Jonny's bodyguard. They'll investigate Zin, try to close out the case, but…"

"—But there's always a chance he'll come after him again. Or someone _else_ will."

"Yes."

"The job's yours." He said instantly. "My son, he's _not_ the sort to bond with just anyone, and he _trusts_ you… even _I_ can see that with my head so far up my…"

"Dr. Quest, let me be frank with you."

"Please do."

"I pushed for this posting. I agree, the boy and I get along, but more, it scares me that you're so undone. He needs you, but he _also_ needs stability. I will protect him, with my life if I must, but you need to work on your grief for his sake. If you accept my terms and conditions—"

"What were your terms? I don't follow."

"I am Jonny's bodyguard, you can terminate that contract since it's commissioned through _your_ affiliation with I-1, so as my boss, well- I need you to work to not fall apart. My client, your son's wellbeing is as much dependent on _you_ pulling up from this. That's my terms and conditions."

"Well, your negotiations are soft…"

"As I said, I pushed for this posting."

"I'll do my best. But I'm not your boss. I'm more of a customer, in that model, and as I'm not reliable enough right now—he _does_ need someone stable, and read in of the threats against him and myself, by extension."

"Thank god…" Race's exclamation gave Benton pause. "Dr. Quest, your reputation for being head-strong does, in fact, precede you."

"Now, I have my _own_ terms and conditions…"

Race nodded the go-ahead.

"I don't want him needlessly scared, or subjected to drills about security in a way that would demoralize him or make him feel like a prisoner—we want to raise our son, my wife and I, I mean, to be the exemplar gentleman, _kind_ , compassionate, and not afraid of the world. If you're up to that task, then I see no reason this arrangement wouldn't work."

"I can do that. How much do you feel he should know?"

Benton swallowed thickly. "…Lying to him serves no purpose, but that was a _lot_ of information, and – I take it, in _your_ professional opinion, it had a few uncalled for hand grenades to lob at him."

"Correct."

"He needs to know it was Zin. That he and his mom were being targeted, and that it went wrong. And that you're here for him so that nothing like that _can_ happen again… that we'll keep him safe, and that there will be some safety rules."

"That's a great start—"

"—And that there will be some _family_ rules, too. Such as, we eat dinner together. If I'm late, come get me. No exceptions beyond travel and health." He paused, "And there's a strict no lying rule. If he feels something or needs something, he has to be able to tell either of us, without hesitation—I… would like to get back to work. Do you need to sort out a room, or have you already done so?"

"I took over the room at the opposite end of the hall than yours."

"Perfect, if you'll excuse me, I'll see you at dinner."

-Heart Song JQ-

He'd been true to his word, Race was relieved. Dr. Quest was oddly quick to co-parent, but as overwhelmed as he had to feel, it made sense.

It was Friday, there had been several errands in the morning, but more than that, was the wake.

Doug Wildey had shown up, railing between he and his 'no good egg-head son-in-law' and cooing and soothing his 'angelic grandbaby.'

It made his head hurt trying to keep up with his swings, but boy was he a doter.

He'd kept Jonny in his lap for more than half the morning, even shooed Race out to help him into his suit.

Benton had _seethed_. He could see the smoke coming from his ears. He even knocked and entered, the _knock_ was for Jonny's sake, _not_ Doug's.

"Son, come here, let me help with your tie."

Race had just barely broken into that before Doug could wildly cut into Benton. It was a damn powder keg and flame thrower getting juggled.

He cordially asked Doug about himself, made his own introductions.

"My grandson doesn't need a damn babysitter, he _needs_ a father—and absent _that_ as he is—" He froze when the blond started to cry.

"Damn it, Doug—not with him _in_ the room!" Benton bit, he picked up Jonny, wiped his tears. "Any luck on your voice yet, sweetheart?"

Jonny shook his head, "-nhhh-yeah-"

"Not yet?"

Jonny nodded.

"He can't talk? Why the hell not?" He heard Doug ask gruffly.

"Language, please."

"Why, so he can be a soft-spoken pansy like you?" Doug shot.

"Because _Rachel_ wants him to be polite when he grows up!" He bit.

"Don't you SAY her name."

"That'll make for an awkward eulogy."

Both stopped when Jonny punched his way from Benton then Doug to clutch Race, climbing up him. Plenty annoyed himself, Race picked up the boy and carried him from the spat. "Are you okay kiddo?"

"Nn…" He stopped, tapped, " _NO_ "

"Are they always like that?"

" _THIS – IS – WORSE._ "

"I see. Let's get you something to drink. Today's going to be a hard day."

" _I – MISS – MOMMY_."

He nodded solemnly, "So do they." He made some honey water, sure it would help his throat. The boy had been nearly mute for a week now, his voice only just _now_ edging back.

He had also been incredibly insular—no going outside, no looking around the house, hell, he wasn't even reading books.

He'd been in his head, and that made Race worry, the only saving grace had been that he'd _talk_ to Race, or write or tap…

Jonny drank it down then set it in the sink.

As Benton and Doug continued arguing, he heard them each threatening each other about visits and no-visits.

"Stp it!" He choked out, "Stp!"

The croak as his face shook as he tried to hold himself together slowed Benton's bickering but only seemed to enrage Doug further.

"Gmpa! Stp it!" He fumed. He scribbled heatedly in the word pad, "You're making mommy sad in heaven!"

Both men hadn't said a goddamned word to each other after that.

Race picked up Jonny so the others had one less thing to argue about.

The wake had been awful though.

So many agency men had come both as a show of support _and_ for security, college friends, even professors and fellow PhD grads were there. All the while, Jonny sat and watched her.

He didn't want to blink, he'd miss her breathe—sit up, say it was all a _joke_.

Benton stood up to shake more hands, Jonny tucked behind him to dodge friendly hair coiffing of people he didn't know, but as his dad kept shaking hands and people kept trying to touch him or hug him, he pushed away and ran up to the coffin.

Race caught him before he'd try to climb in, but not before he'd grabbed her hand and tried to wake her up.

Benton excused himself, picked up Jonny and returned to their seat, the boy sobbing into Benton's collar. "I know, shh… shh." He cooed.

He watched Doug walk up and collapse to his knees at his only daughter's coffin, his only _child's_ coffin.

Benton swallowed hard.

After 10 minutes, Doug turned to them, he picked up Jonny, Benton was about to protest when Doug said, "Say goodbye to yer _wife_ already."

Jonny wailed.

Doug shifted the boy closer to his shoulder, keeping his weight on his hip. "Jonny, be strong. Yer dad doesn't have _that_ skill, you get it from yer mom's side."

He didn't understand but he'd tried to stop crying. His throat hurt too much. "D-dy…" he asked after 20 minutes.

Benton walked over, picked him up then went back to her coffin. "Jonny, your mommy can hear you—even if you just _think_ it, so tell her how much you love her and miss her. She loves and misses you too, you know. So much. She wanted to see you grow up so much—to be there _with_ you while you grow…"

"h wna be wf her too—take me wf you m-mmy…" he choked out.

"She can't, Jonny. And she didn't _want_ that- because she wants _you_ to grow up. She wants us to stay together."

He sobbed harder.

"B-buh…" he grabbed the lid, "buh I wan' m'mmy…"

Benton managed to loosen his grip, pulled him toward the back. "I know, so do I, but this is where we _have_ to say bye, you _have_ to— _"_

"No!" He yelled, voice cracking, "I won'h! I wan' m'mmy!"

Benton rocked him, the boy's violent shaking finally receded. As the viewing hours closed, Benton put an envelope of index cards into the lining, a drawing Jonny had done, and her wedding ring.

He'd kept the engagement ring in case Jonny ever would like it, but _that_ ring belonged with _her._

"Jonny, you _have_ to say bye. This is your _last_ time to look at her body… we have to _bury_ her."

Shoulders shaking, he pulled out a favorite book and put it into her hand. "M'mmy, re' me stry… like you pr'mised…" he choked. "You're goin' sleep… lemme re' it…" he tried, failing miserably to say what he meant, "I miss you an' love you m'mmy… I'll keep m' pr'mises… so p'ease… p'ease mommy…" He closed his eyes.

"Don't stay away forever an' ever… Come back for me, mommy…" He sat down hard, his legs too shaky for him to stay standing. His thumb went to his mouth. A juvenile habit neither Quest had seen since toddlerhood.

Race took the moment to pick him up. "Kiddo, we need to go into the car, now. We'll see her casket at the church."

-Heart Song JQ-

Jonny was a phrenic bundle of unease. He wanted his mom to hug him- for her to come and say it was all a big misunderstanding.

Doug had the boy firmly wrapped on his lap, not letting him get away from his grip.

"…" He saw so much of his beloved Rachel in the boy, it was like holding her at six- except that they were supposed to be _happy_ \- tumbling and ready to explore, not holding _together_ by a thread and gum.

The boy was sniffling, babbling in his cracked voice, "Mommy _has_ to get up- she has to…"

Doug rubbed the boy's back and nape of his neck, curling his silky locks, too short to be Rachel's, but subconsciously searching. "She's already gone ahead, Jonny… she _can't_ come back now."

"She can! I know she can—just like in Ali Baba—if I get a djinn—I can wish and she can come back an' an' be…" he cried, he didn't even _know_ the story yet. She didn't _finish reading_ _it_ to him.

Doug rocked him.

By time they were at the church, Doug was just rocking the boy as he drifted further into a catatonic despair. He felt so _light_ , like he too wasn't fully there.

The young boy was no longer crying, he couldn't even emote that much by time the priest had read a final prayer over her. He hated that priest. He'd _made_ it official—she _couldn't_ now—or so Jonny took it.

Dr. Quest went to the altar and began his speech, he kept shuffling his flashcards.

As he tried to focus, all he could think of were firsts and lasts—first dance—last fuck—first encounter—last kiss—first kiss as husband and wife—last push in the birth of their children, only one surviving… first fight (that he lost completely), last dinner…

"Rachel is the love of my life…" He started, "She had a spirit that lit up an entire room, but just like the warmth of the moon, she didn't consider it a big deal to light up the dark. She was low-key amazing… we never fought, because I could _never_ win…" He let out a hiccup of tears, sobbing as he took another card, "My wife, my beautiful, charming wife was supposed to be with me until our nineties or hundreds… but she was taken too soon—she—she had these index cards for her dissertations because the _only_ thing that frightened that woman was public speaking. Damn it, Rachel… I think it's these cards—because it's impossible to say these words…"

He wiped his eyes, shifted to another card. "She was the smartest person I've ever met, and I don't know how I suckered her into marrying me… but they were the happiest 12 years pf my life—every day I had with her, and she gave me such a gift in our precious son—" He held out his hand, the boy darted to him, crushing his face into his dad's legs.

"—She was brave, and she was the only person I've known _more_ stubborn than me… she would always say how she had her boys around her little finger—and her _timing_ —from how to swoop into a new restaurant to how long it'd take Jonny to go down for bed—to the exact second to run a perfect gel—but the one time it matters… and _that's_ the one you flubbed, darling…" He licked moisture into his lips, mouth like cotton.

"I will always love you. I will always cherish the time you graced me with, and protect our child—Rachel, _Doctor_ Rachel Wildey Quest—because you _made me swear_ if you died before me that the whole world would remember how you survived _3_ dissertations and _earned_ that damn Doctorate title—were my best friend, and an amazing friend to so many in this room. A beloved and cherished daughter, mother, and lover… you will always be missed, and _never_ forgotten."

"D-dy…" Jonny said from pressed into his legs.

He knelt down, "Yes son?"

"C'n I say s'mthing?"

"Of course, sport, of course…" He picked up the small boy.

"Mommy… I love you and I miss you… why can't you come home—" the fresh pelt of tears, Dr. Quest saw Doug shoot him daggers, he clearly didn't like hearing the boy's voice break. "I'll promise you anything… just _come back_ —"

Benton spun Jonny into his chest, the first two rows of the full pews had caught just enough of his small voice, there were fresh tears all around.

"Shh, shh, we _have_ to be brave." He whispered to the boy.

Jonny hiccupped from crying too hard, racking, he couldn't catch his breath.

The priest touched his hair, praying for his complacence and acceptance, the boy tried to get out from under the hand.

"Mommy don't leave! You made me _promise_ to be alright—I don't wanna _lie_!"

"Sh, hush now…" He pulled Jonny tighter into his frame, he was worried he'd smother him trying to comfort him, and yet, the boy's wails echoed.

Benton carried him back to the pew as pallbearers carried his dainty wife and her dauntingly wild spirit out in a final procession.

-Heart Song JQ-

At the cemetery, irises and roses by the hundreds sat to the side of a mound of fresh earth.

Another hollow ceremony, the casket lowered in. Dr. Quest didn't _dare_ let Jonny off his hip, certain he'd crawl in with her—sure he'd do the same if only he could bare her wrath of leaving the son _alone_.

Jonny was trembling, silent, and dry-eyed again.

Benton didn't know how the boy'd run dry, he certainly hadn't managed yet. Maybe because of the differential sizes of lacrima glands, or overall water by mass… he'd need to make the boy drink to rehydrate.

His head was dropping, was he falling asleep? Benton didn't think it felt like him drifting off. He looked catatonic, not asleep.

On autopilot himself, he knelt on the earth, picked up two irises and two roses.

"Jonny, this is our last time to give mommy fresh flowers where she can see them…" He said, he felt like a cad to lie, but, really how else did he explain the ritual?

Jonny kissed the two irises and roses, Benton did the same, he dropped his set then helped Jonny's reach to do the same.

Doug and Race also sent off the roses and irises.

They stepped back as the procession paid their final respect, at the end, Benton scooped up earth.

"Jonny, pick up a handful."

"No…"

" _Jonny_ , please, this _matters_ …" Did it though? Did it do anything but just hurt his already overtaxed son? These rituals were more for _his_ mind, _his_ easing og his panging spirit.

Jonny grabbed the earth.

"And so, ashes to ashes, and dust to—"

Jonny stepped on the priest's foot. "STOP IT! She's IN there! She's NOT dust!"

" _Jonny_ —"

He sank to his knees looking at the box, now covered in irises and roses. "I'm sorry mom… I'll be good… I will… Don't forget me in heaven… I may look different when it's my turn to go there…" he whispered, and dropped his handful. Without another word, he walked to Race's side and stared with red eyes at the hole.

Benton pushed up his bangs as he looked at the coffin. "I'll be better, Rachel, I'll be my better self you always said I really was…" He also dropped his earth on her then walked to Jonny, standing on his other side, though the boy refused to let go of Race's hand.

Doug knelt to the hole, gestured a cross and poured his handful, "Say hi to yer ma, princess."

He walked back toward his grandbaby. He knelt to face Jonny.

"When's the last you ate?" He asked, taking in the boy's small, _shrinking_ frame.

He shrugged, turned his face into Race's leg. He was _tired_ of being looked at.

"This morning he didn't have his stomach." Race said in a calming, mature way.

"Well no shit, you need him to eat _anyway._ "

"Doug…" Benton said gently, "Not here. Not _now_."

He did let it drop, for _now._

-Heart Song JQ-

At the house, Doug was in for a fixin', he had chicken nuggets, mac n' cheese, baked beans, pasta—if it was fatty, fried, or carbs—or better yet, _multiples_ —he'd made it.

The abundance of food wasn't a help to Jonny who just felt overwhelmed.

Benton knew this was comfort food—all aimed to comfort _kids_ —and was the best chance to get the boy to bank some serious calories. He fixed a plate and put it in front of Jonny, then took a similar plate for himself.

"…Thanks for cooking, Doug." He said, all his emotion spent in his voice long ago.

"Yer welcome. I did it for _him_ , fer all I care _you_ could starve."

Benton rubbed his eyebrows.

" _STOP IT!_ " Jonny screamed, knocking over his plate. "Stop fightin'! Mommy's not _here_ to make you two be _good_ an' I _can't_ —" he sunk his face into his arms, sobbing over the table.

"You two need a truce and a cease fire. He's gone through _enough_ today, don't you think?" Race said, more pointedly at Doug.

"Ah hell…" He brushed Jonny's cheek. "'m sorry, I'm a grumpy ol' man, an' yer dad can take the bickerin'…"

In a gravelly voice, Jonny said, "Well _I_ can't…" He swiped at his eyes.

The maturity the 6 year old showed had Race yet again in awe. He had all _three_ men around his little finger just like Rachel had for _her_ men.

"Be _nice_. I promised mom. I _promised_."

"Alright, I'll tone it down…"

Jonny glared, "Be _nice_ grandpa! We _all_ miss her."

"Don't go battin' them blues at me… I've surrendered, no terms uncertain."

Jonny pulled over two chicken nuggets, really having lost his stomach for the day.

Benton gave him a scoop of mac n' cheese and a scoop of baked beans, "You need to eat at a minimum all of that."

He nodded, shoveled it apathetically. "I'm tired… dad can I sleep in your room tonight?"

"Sure, sport. Let's get you into your pjs."

"Are you going back to the lab after you tuck me in… or can you read to me?"

"I'm not going back to the lab. Let's read together…" He was so happy to hear his son's voice, and for it to sound so _strong_ , but the haunted eyes made him so fearful he'd vanish too, just like those pesky djinn. "What do you want to read?"

"Something real. Not stories… stories are lies… they don't _happen_ …" He said, sour that no wish brought back his mom.

"…That's not true, they _hide_ their truths, son. They aren't all lies. You learned to be _brave_ like Sinbad. Your mom knew it saved your _life_."

"It didn't save _hers_ though, now did it!" He brooded.

Benton sighed, "How about history—I'll read to you about the _history_ of alchemy."

"Okay…" He leaned into his dad who helped him to the boy's room to get changed.

-Heart Song JQ-

Doug had begrudgingly left on day 3, Jonny was attached to his dad's hip, and he was not about to break his word of peace with him, _nor_ was he patient enough to not smack the shit outta that smug asshole of a son-in-law, so he decided to be amicable and negotiate a Thanksgiving or Christmas with _both_ – or apparently all _three_ men now.

"We'll be there for Christmas— _unless_ there's an issue, and then you'll be welcome _here_ for it."

"Issue?" He'd said in a dirty voice, damn near ready to go to blows.

Race curtailed it. "Doug, I'm here as _Jonny's_ bodyguard, not Benton's. If it's a security _issue_ it's…"

Point clear, Doug nodded, "Say no more."

He hugged Jonny tight, half-tempted to spirit him away then and there.

"I love you grandpa."

"I love you too, Jonny. I'll _always_ be just a phone call away. If yer dad goes all quiet, you call me and _I'll_ set his head straight…"

"Can't I just call to _talk_ to you?"

"Always, Jonny, _always_!"

" _Good_ , cuz Race promised ta chase dad outta the lab if he gets too into it… an' they don't _fight_."

Doug laughed, "Does Race just win, too?"

Jonny smiled, eyes twinkled, " _Yeah_."

He roughly kissed Jonny's cheek, hugged him tight. "You take care." With a stern jab at Race, "An' you take damn good care of my grandbaby, you _hear_?"

"Yes sir, I do."

-END-


End file.
